Chapter 13 The First Argument
953 Words
The following week passed in an uneasy rhythm.
Lorenzo became busier than ever. Meetings, business dinners, late-night work calls—his schedule was packed from morning to midnight.
At least, that was what he told Isabella.
She tried to believe him.
She really did.
But the strange feeling inside her chest kept growing stronger.
Because sometimes, when Lorenzo came home late, there was something different about him.
A faint smell of perfume that wasn’t hers.
A distracted look in his eyes.
And most importantly…
A distance she had never felt before.
That evening, Isabella sat in the living room flipping through a magazine while the rain tapped softly against the windows.
The penthouse felt unusually quiet.
She checked the clock.
8:47 PM.
Lorenzo was late again.
Just as she reached for her phone, the front door opened.
Lorenzo walked inside, loosening his tie as he stepped into the room.
“You’re home,” Isabella said softly.
“Yes.”
“You’re late.”
“I told you I had meetings.”
She studied his face carefully.
“You look tired.”
“It was a long day.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yes.”
Isabella frowned slightly.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Her shoulders dropped slightly.
“I made dinner.”
Lorenzo glanced briefly at the dining table.
“I told you not to wait for me.”
“You didn’t.”
Silence filled the room.
Isabella stood up slowly.
“Where did you eat?”
“Restaurant.”
“With clients?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
Then she asked the question that had been sitting in her mind all week.
“Was Victoria there?”
Lorenzo’s expression hardened slightly.
“Yes.”
The answer hit Isabella harder than she expected.
“You were with her?”
“It was a business lunch.”
“At night?”
“It turned into dinner.”
“Why?”
“She wanted to discuss something.”
“What kind of business does she have with you?”
Lorenzo sighed impatiently.
“Isabella, it’s not a big deal.”
“It feels like one.”
“You’re overthinking.”
“I’m asking.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“She’s starting a fashion company here. She asked for advice.”
“Advice?”
“Yes.”
“She has the entire business world available, Lorenzo. Why ask you?”
“Because we know each other.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Isabella’s expression changed slightly.
“Exactly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means she’s your ex.”
“And?”
“And you’re spending a lot of time with her.”
“She asked for help.”
“And you immediately agreed?”
Lorenzo’s patience began to wear thin.
“She’s not the villain you’re making her out to be.”
“I’m not making her a villain.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m asking my husband why he suddenly spends more time with his ex-girlfriend than with his wife.”
Her voice remained calm, but the pain inside it was clear.
Lorenzo crossed his arms.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being honest.”
“She’s not doing anything wrong.”
“I didn’t say she was.”
“Then why do you sound like you’re accusing her?”
Isabella blinked in surprise.
“I’m not accusing her.”
“Then stop acting like she’s a problem.”
The words hit Isabella like a slap.
For a moment, she simply stared at him.
“Did you just defend her?”
“I’m being reasonable.”
“No,” she said quietly.
“You’re choosing her side.”
“That’s not true.”
“It feels true.”
Lorenzo ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Victoria is just a friend.”
“You said she was your ex.”
“She is.”
“And now she’s your friend?”
“Yes.”
Isabella shook her head slowly.
“That’s a little convenient.”
“Isabella.”
“Yes?”
“You’re making this bigger than it is.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then she said something softly.
“I trusted you completely.”
“And you still should.”
“But right now…”
She paused.
“I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Her honesty made Lorenzo hesitate.
For a moment, he almost softened.
But then he remembered Victoria’s words earlier that day.
"Your wife seems a little insecure."
And suddenly his pride took over.
“Nothing is happening,” he said firmly.
“You’re imagining things.”
Isabella felt something inside her chest tighten.
“I hope you’re right.”
She turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Lorenzo remained standing in the living room.
The rain outside had grown heavier.
And for the first time since their marriage…
A real c***k had appeared between them.
Inside the bedroom, Isabella sat on the edge of the bed.
Her eyes burned slightly, but she refused to cry.
She didn’t want to believe something was wrong.
But tonight had shown her something important.
When she expressed concern…
Lorenzo had defended Victoria.
Not her.
And that realization hurt more than she expected.
Meanwhile, in another part of the city…
Victoria Hayes sat comfortably in a luxurious hotel suite.
She sipped a glass of wine while looking at her phone.
A message from Lorenzo earlier that evening remained on the screen.
We shouldn’t meet so often.
Victoria smiled slowly.
“Too late,” she murmured.
Because Victoria Hayes knew exactly what she was doing.
And step by step…
She was succeeding.
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